Thursday, October 20, 2016


This time of year, the days shorten; the darkening of the light.

AMC's Fearfest runs in the background as I write and edit.  Sometimes, I'll run modes on the guitar while zombies shamble and vampires seduce on mainstream television.  My DVDs and streaming services get a well-deserved rest, and I countdown the days until the retail stores mark down all their festive goodies.  Bank account be damned, my shotgun home needs monsters in every corner.
I've realized that I have a lot of unfinished business, circles opened that I need to see through.  Clean my slate before Samhain, before the lines between the living and dead blur.  Sweep away chaotic energy before carving out new lines.  The moon wanes, turning dark on mischief night.

Has there ever been such perfect timing?

TRANSMUNDANE PRESS has launched its own blog with promising results.

We'll have a lot of guest posters taking about the craft, their work, and the creative life.

The kickstarter for AFTER THE HAPPILY EVER AFTER climbs.  Please support the project by pre-ordering.  We're offering a limited hardback that will only happen if we reach full funding.   

Pledge today.

Here's an excerpt from TIPPING THE CUP by J. ROSSI:

This darkness caught me by the hair and pulled me back so violently my neck and back cracked as I hit the ground. The pain shot up all around me all at once but I was frozen on the cold earth. I wanted to move but I couldn't. The darkness wrapped around my wrist so gently and tugged.

Then it tugged again, and again until I moved back.

Then I was sliding, slowly backwards. It was taking me back.

And it was singing in the most beautiful voice.

They're in the music.

I saw my feet twitching as it pulled me by one arm slowly back through leaves and mud and twigs. I remember the cold. It was freezing but my spine and hair was on fire.

My tears soaked my cheeks and blurred my vision. My little house faded in the distance. I couldn't turn my head to see it. I could feel it.

No one saw me. No one was there to help. I was going to that hole and then, God knows where.



I wonder where I went.

Wonder what land.


"Did you really think your petty little blood magic would bind one of us? I am the Countess Benaille. I should kill you for your presumption."

"Leave her alone!" Alisia cried. "What she is you made her! Just break the spells and we'll never call on you again."

"Why should I? You both lead the lives you deserve. You in a palace, her in a sty."

"I do not deserve the life you've given me! You've made me a trained monkey, a freak, a glorified court jester!"

Countess Benaille frowned. "Once I sought to reward virtue and punish vanity. I see before me a wasted effort. That one is no better than she ever was. But you." She bent to pick up a single white rose lying on the dirt. Breathing in its scent, she shook her head. "So ungrateful you dare insult me. Spoiled, selfish, haughty. Everything I once knew you were not."

Alisia met that amethyst stare with every ounce of strength she'd built up facing Queen Sylvia. "You said you wanted to reward virtue and punish vanity. Is that true? Or are you just one more lord's daughter who likes to torture helpless animals?"

Countess Benaille flung the rosebud into flowers piled at Alisia's feet. The flowers withered, shrank, crumbled to dust. "Prove me wrong, Princess. Prove virtue still dwells in your heart. Give your gift to your 'sister.'"


No one answered yesterday's question, so the prize—THE FACE by DEAN KOONTZ –rolls over today. 


ENDLESS FEAR a gothic romance paperback by Adrianne Lee.

(not cover of prize--couldn't find correct image)
For twelve long years, April Farraday has struggled to recall what happened the night of her mother's fatal fall down a flight of stairs. Did she push her mother to her death? If she is ever to be free to spend her life with the man she loves, April must return to scene of the crime and confront her forgotten past.

But there are those at Calendar House who also fear the return of April's memory, including the man she loves, and they will do anything to keep the truth from coming out. Including committing another murder.

To win this prize, let me know in the comments of this blog or on facebook who your favorite fictional couple is and why.

Good luck, cats.

1 comment:

  1. Anne Elliott and Capt. Frederick Wentworth, from Jane Austen's Persuasion. Despite all the social and financial pressures thrown into their path, their hearts remained true to each other.